The Last Act
by yousillymuggle
Summary: Sirius/Remus. For their love had been nothing but a performance, and it was time for the final curtain call.


**A/N:** This one-shot is set shortly after Sirius Black's arrest. Remus reflects on what occurred during their time together. Slightly bitter with a touch of regret.

"**Hell is empty and all the devils are here".**

_**William Shakespeare, The Tempest**_

Looking back on the time that we spent together, I cannot help but wonder if any of it was real. Were the soft touches, the gentle caresses, the loving kisses, honest or was I nothing more than a pawn in your game?

Did you really love me? Did you?

Or was I just a fanciful distraction to the horrors you witnessed in the world outside our home?

I always believed you to be a hero. Perhaps not a knight in shining armour, as per say, but a hero none the less. You certainly had all the qualities required to be a leading man. Your beauty, your charm, your overwhelming love and desire. Was it any wonder I gave myself to you completely?

But now I have come to realise that the life we shared together was nothing more than an act. Performed upon a platform of war, love, sex and spilt blood. Ours was a tragedy, one to rival the greats.

"Happy birthday Moony. I know you'll love it".

You had bought me a copy of Beauty and the Beast, the adaption written by Jeanne-Marie Le Prince de Beaumont. To this day, I am oblivious as to how you came across a classical Muggle novel. At first, I couldn't help but be offended. Were you unaware of the hurt your gift could cause me or did you purchase the present simply to be cruel? My lycanthropy, though not a sensitive topic in those days, was still something I hoped you, as one of my closest friends, would at least try to refrain from joking about. Upon seeing my shocked, if a bit upset, expression you began to hastily explain yourself.

"No, Moony, Merlin...I didn't it that way, I swear! Look, just listen...try to let me explain, okay?

I know what you see when you look in the mirror Remus. You see nothing but scars. If I were to ask you to sum yourself up in one word, you'd say werewolf. You look past all your cleverness and bravery and quiet beauty, that is beauty none the less, make no mistake. You only recognize your negative qualities, like a curse that is not your fault and which you have no control over. I wanted to show you Remus, that you're so much more than your condition. You're polite yet excel in sarcasm, your humour is filled with spontaneous wit, you're nearly top in every class and yet, too often you forget that the world is capable of looking past your scars. You may call yourself a Beast Remus but you'll always be Beauty to me".

It was on that fateful night – 10th March 1976 – my sixteenth birthday, that I realised I was hopelessly in love with you.

Lately, I have found myself analysing your words. Every word, every whisper, every promise made in the darkness of night, with the curtains closed so that the moon could no longer seemingly hurt me. Did you truly mean the words you spoke, or were you simply reading off a script?

I've never been an actor but during that time, I played the fool well enough.

You see my darling, the act has finally ended. The curtain is closing and yet, out of all the characters that preformed alongside us, I am the only one who remains to stand on the stage, alone.

I have been presented with flowers but with no one to hand them to, they are useless. I can only imagine you standing here beside me, grinning as you relish in the roars of the crowd. There was no outcry at all, as you were led away from your audience. Murderers do not deserve trials, or so they say.

There has been many a cheer in the outside world. The Dark Lord is gone, a fact I'm sure is causing you great distress, hidden away inside your cell.

The world had been our stage and I suffered the misfortune of failing to piece together the plot holes in our play. Perhaps I could have even been the surprising, if late, antagonist. But then again, I would have never dared to steal your spotlight. You were always a true leading man and I didn't have the heart or the talent, to try and upstage you. It's a pity, I found out far too late, which side you happened to be leading.

I wish to take none of it back. For the remainder of my life, I will continue to be tortured by the memories of your rather outstanding performance. Maybe the reason I believed every single one of your lies, was not because of how you captivated me with your words but simply because your spotlight shone so bright, it just happened to blind me.

None of these reasons are excuses however, for my foolish daydreaming. As young and naive and in love as I was, I couldn't help but believe you to be an angel.

I was so very, very wrong, my dear.

For it has been said, **"Hell is empty and all the devils are here". **But how was I to see your true intents, when your lies were basked in words of love?

It may seem extremely foolish to do so but I will continue to treasure the words you spoke to me, the actions you carried out to make me feel loved. Because even though they may have been lies, read from a script, they were performed beautifully, my darling.


End file.
